


The Soul-Crushing Guilt

by RhododendronWilliams



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Existential Angst, Gen, Guilt, POV Cecil (Welcome to Night Vale), Psychological Torture, Typical Night Vale Weirdness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-09-29
Packaged: 2017-12-27 23:23:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/984875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhododendronWilliams/pseuds/RhododendronWilliams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Sheriff's Secret Police introduce a new torture method: soul-crushing guilt, and the town gains a new conscience. Written like an episode of Welcome to Night Vale. </p><p>(Parts of this has been previously published in the story "Marshmallows", but I felt like making a darker, more show-like version without the silliness.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Soul-Crushing Guilt

They say if you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you.

The void does more than that.

It sucks you in, and you never get out.

So don't look directly at the void, ever. 

Welcome. To Night Vale.

 

The Sheriff's Secret Police have announced that all physical torture in Night Vale prisons will cease today. The reason is, and I quote, ”it did not seem fair, given that 53 per cent of the town's population was born without pain-sensing nerves. Instead of physical punishment, all prisoners will now be inflicted with horrific, soul-crushing guilt, until such time as they mend their ways or die.” Sounds pretty fair to me! 

An outside expert was brought in to do the guilting. She is a miss Senbad Morales, who will also serve as the town's official conscience. Miss Morales holds a PhD in con-science, and has experience of the toughest criminals in some of the worst prisons in the US, including Alcatraz. She has also driven many people to madness with guilt, first and foremost her own parents. The town's previous conscience, Martin Hayman, retired last week, only a few days before his mysterious death. He simply ceased to be. Some people claimed that this town murdered its own conscience, and we are now unscrupulous and uninhibited immoral beings, leading a life of decadence and vice. Indeed, a new record has been reached at the town prisons, which are 95 per cent full. "There is still room," informs the Sheirff's Secret Police with a fax that just appeared before me. 

Miss Morales visited our studio earlier today to give the following statement: ”Greetings, Night Vale. I hope that our cooperation will be fruitful, and that all the rotten apples will be weeded out of the tree that is your town. Please go about your usual daily business and act as if I'm not here. Just remember: I see everything. I know what you have hidden under your mattresses, and what lurks inside your hollowed-out Bibles. For shame, Night Vale. For shame.”

As for her looks, she is a short, slim, tightly-wound young lady with jet black hair, a large piercig eye in her forehead, and prominent conscience tentacles, which come out of the middle of her skull to punish people when needed. It struck me that her tentacles look very similar to the unidentified tendrils of our own Station Management. The only difference is that Miss Morales' tentacles seem to change colors, from a faint pink glow of kindness to a dark, deep, punishing purple. It also occurred to me that I have been terribly, unnecessarily mean to Steve Carlsberg. He might have a nasal voice that could pierce your ear lobes, or enlarge existing piercings. He might give enragingly vague weather reports, and we all know he is unapologetically cheap with mayonnaise when it's his turn to make sandwiches for the town picnic. But he is, after all, only human. So um, I'm sorry Steve. ...I guess.

I should also remember to clean my house more often, and let Carlos do what he wants with his hair. And I was so mean to the Apache Tracker too, and he turned out to be a hero. I am an awful, putrid person. An eternity of guilt would not be enough to fix-

[scary noises]

[in a strained voice] Oh dear. Station Management has informed me, by shouting inside my head and probing my brain in a most unpleasant way, that I am not to say anything about their physical attributes, nor compare them to the corresponding attributes of any other being or beings. I shall stick to reporting the news, announcements, and traffic reports for our small community, and cease and desist with all descriptions of the Station Management, who shall remain nameless, unseen, and inaudible forever and ever, amen. I apologize. Now on to our other topics.

Breath. Sinews. Blood gushing back and forth, back and forth. Your breathing going back and forth, frothing at the mouth. Your feet tapping the sidewalk as you run, run, RUN for your LIFE. You, contained by your body in this moment in time, this place in the world. It is the only place you can be at this moment. Too bad you've been spotted, and will soon be captured. Give yourself in before that happens. You know you're guilty of something. This PSA was brought to you by the Sheriff's Secret Police.

Have you remembered to visit your dentist? Don't forget, or you will be court-ordered a dentist, and they are not always gentle. Dentists - they make house calls now. This PSA was brought to you by the Greater Night Vale Area Medical Community. 

Listeners, Carlos and I are having our first real fight. I don't want to make this too personal, it is a community radio show after all. But can you believe he said the guilt torture sounds "cruel and unusual"? I had never heard this phrase before, but he claims that there is a law in the US against "cruel and unusual punishments". I didn't know he had such feelings about our friendly little town. The way I see it, if someone commits a horrible thought crime, impudence infraction, or a feeling felony, I think they should be punished. I'm not going to apologize for it. I've done my time in re-education in the Dark Box, it was painful and not a pleasant memory - although I remember very little of that time - but it made me a better person. I feel that the Sheriff's Secret Police are doing an excellent job in this town. Um, it just occured to me that Carlos may end up in trouble because I told you this. Please be kind to him and remember he is only a newcomer in our town. I'm sure only the gentlest re-education is necessary. 

The Sheriff's Secret Police reports a success rate of 100 % with the new soul-breaking guilt torture method. That means 100 per cent of all the prisoners inflicted with it have either died, gone insane, or changed their views on things like freedom of speech, freedom of religion, or freedom period. "Miss Morales is a valuable asset to our town," informed an agent of the Secret Police just now telepathically into my ear. "We are currently inundating her as an agent in our Police Force. The ceremony is highly secret and on a need-to-know basis. Any civilians present will be prosecuted." And I've just received word, telepathically again, that the location they chose was Big Rico's Pizza, which unfortunately was full of people at the time. Big Rico was released, but the customers were taken into the dungeons for gulting. Really, people should know better than to intrude on the secret need-to-know-basis ceremonies of the Sheriff's Secret Police.

Here's a message from our sponsors. ”Are you sick of taking trips that make home seem like a dump? Do your fears, nightmares, and odd pains return as soon as you're back in Night Vale? Try a vacation that makes your home life seem like paradise. Give yourself or your loved ones the gift of a guilt trip. We offer a wide range of guilt trips, from a stroll down memory lane to a detailed look at your current life and choices. The destination might be, say, the office of the Sheriff's Secret Police where you confess your thought crimes. Or you might end up in a prison cell fully equipped with HBO on Demand and relatively clean sheets. The destination and intensity of the trip varies from person to person. No refunds in case of insanity. Come to us at Night Vale's Nifty Travel Agency, and ask for Senbad. Night Vale's Nifty Travels – you can get away.”

Awww, I just got an endearing text message from Carlos. "I'm so sorry for doubting the town, I love this town and you. I have been impudent and feel very bad about it. Very, very bad. Please forgive me. xxx PS. Senbad says hi and tut tut." Awww! Carlos, you know I could never stay mad at you. Come over to my place tonight after the show, we can go through the Town Rule Book together, and I'll try and explain better why it's important to trust the Sheriff's Secret Police. You know, it's such a good feeling to be on good terms with Carlos again. I should remember he's new here. Our town might be better than any other place on Earth, but even great things take getting used to. 

And now, the weather. 

[Flowers on the Subway by prettylittledoughboy](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-OmCD22PYxQ)

And now, traffic.

Old Woman Josie called me earlier to inform the town that her angels in residence are learning how to ride bikes. She warns us that all cars should slow down near her house, because the angels are still very wobbly on the bikes and may fall down. She has also put up signs saying ”Angels Biking Caution Advised” by the highway near her house. The City Council has stated that there is absolutely no reason to slow down, because there is no such thing as angels. In fact, they say, you should probably drive a bit faster than usual, just to show Old Woman Josie that there is no danger here. And there are definitely no angels here, either.

This just in: our town's most fertile citizen, Gertie McPerkinson, has given birth to her 30th child today, a little girl this time. The infant, named ZXY Cyborg-30 McPerkinson, joins 15 older sisters and 14 brothers, all born within the last 20 years. Doctor Williams gave a press conference in front of the hospital, where he mentioned that the baby is perfectly healthy and normal, except for the large glowing green whiskers, but this was expected, given that all of Ms. McPerkinson's children have had them. ”We would have been surprised if she had not sported such whiskers,” explained Dr. Williams. Some journalists raised the question of how Ms. McPerkinson can continue to produce children, given that she had a hysterectomy five years ago, after the birth of her 25th child, ZYX Cyborg-25. Dr. Williams said, ”You press vultures. You sad, pathetic human waste, feeding on other people's misery and confusion. Don't you have anything better to do? Just go home already! Shoo!” End quote. Miss McPerkinson has been quoted as saying, ”Oh my god, make it stop, make it stop”. A source who wishes to remain anonymous claimed she whispered ”It's the sheriff...” before passing out. We congratulate Miss McPerkinson and wish her many more bundles of joy.

 And now, children's fun science corner! Do you know what "sentient" means? It means something that has its own mind and thinks and feels things. Did you know that trees are sentient? That's right. They may speak only rarely, and their messages may sound garbled to us, but they actually talk to each other telepathically all the time, and they watch everything we do. So remember, the trees can see and hear you. Don't carve on their bark, it hurts them. Treat them with respect. We all remember what happened to little Trevor Braxton last year, when he swung off a tree's branches. That was the tree taking its revenge on him.

Ladies and gentlemen, the Sheriff's Secret Police have announced that guilt was never used as a torture method in the Night Vale prison system, Miss Morales was never here, and if there were a town conscience, she would certainly not find any flaws in the actions of the sheriff's secret police or the city council. So if you have any recollection of Miss Morales, do not hesitate to turn yourself in at the Night Vale Joyful Recreation and Re-education Center, formerly known as the Night Vale Mental Hospital.

Night is falling once again. How many nights have there been in the course of history, and how many still shall be, before we are hurled into an endless void without sun or time? We cannot know, we can only live in the moment. In this moment, the llamas are breathing steadily, the birds have gone quiet, and red-eyed horses puff smoke out of their nostrils as they patrol the streets.

 

Good night, Night Vale. Good night.


End file.
